who are you? what do you want? am i
made of coal? are you going to tell me yet?
why do i have to live like this?
i demand spotlessness. die, die, die. get your
rapist hands off my kind heart.
there is nothing worth shutting up about.
no organism left behind? oh,
but it seems the worth
has been determined in each.
is the worth dormant and growing?
the expression of god-give, ignorant
of the clock of the wrist- the thing
that knows it goes back, back
way back in history
to primordial man, the motherfuck of the wheel.
if only i could slay.
and if i were to propagate,
it would be heard. the stars are supposed to be
sage. this beautiful sky
is killing me with its vitality. it's upsetting
how beauty does not touch me-
the virgin- that which does not register. that
sun is watching,
keeps changing, being with light, letting it go-
is it possible there is a point
when it can be so easy?